Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin
by badspeler
Summary: Harry Potter is back for year six, and he finds himself addicted to the strange powers he possesses. And who is this prince of slytherin that seems to be on You-Know-Who's mind? Year six promises to be hot, exciting, hilarious, and above all magical.
1. Gurgling and Giggling

**Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin**  
An original fanfiction by badspeler

**- CHAPTER ONE -  
Gurgling and Giggling**

**-H-**

"_But someone still was yelling out and stumbling  
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime  
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light  
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning  
In all my dreams, before my helpless sigh  
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning."_

_Dulce et Decorum Est, by Wilfred Owens_

**-H-**

It was nearly midnight. Banks of thick grey fog drifted in from the sea, shrouding the well-concealed dockland. Slowly they settled and fanned out in all directions, and before long, houses streets and open spaces were wrapped in a moist veil that caught at one's throat.

At the time of this story, only the poorest of the poor still lived in this part of the city. It was known for its collection of petty thieves and small-time crooks, and thus, generally better if you didn't know what was going on around you. You wouldn't want to know. Therefore, one night, when a sharp wail was heard from the sea, people just turn their heads and upped their tv volumes. Better not to hear.

But miles away, a jet-black hair boy with a burning red lightning scar knew. He knew what had just happened. He knew it was something bad. But he couldn't stop the maniacal laughter from rising through him, and he roared in a way that wasn't him at all.

It was only the next morning when the Dursleys found Harry Potter curled up on the floor, shivering and grinning uncontrollably.

**-H-**

"How do you use this effing thing," snarled Uncle Vernon as he fingered the quill, "Damn freaks can't even invent something you can write with. Got their heads in the clouds, I tell ya. DAMN IT!" The quill had snapped under his iron vice grip, and he flung it to the side in frustration.

"Vernon, not in front of the boy…" Aunt Petunia looked disapprovingly at her husband's use of language.

Uncle Vernon turned to look at Dudley, the only boy who could cause everything in their house to have depressions the size of his enormous behind and at the same time cause everything from the television to the game console to be spoilt beyond repair. He chuckled. "My sonny probably knows more words than I do, eh?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Dudley grinned mischievously.

A giggle from behind them reminded the family of their problem. Aunt Petunia glared daggers at Harry, who was now frothing at the mouth and shaking violently, causing the cheap bed to rattle.

"Oh move over Vernon. _Men_…" she sighed heavily, taking another quill and easily began writing.

"Crikey mom, how d'you do that?" Dudley eyes widened in childish fascination. His mother turned crimson.

"I used to practice with…my sister's…and erm…erm…And there, all done!"

They stood on tiptoes and read the letter over her shoulders.

"_Dear Dumbledore,_

_We woke up this morning to find Harry laughing maniacally and shivering uncontrollably. His lightning scar is terribly hot, and appears to be burning. He is scaring our poor son out of his wits. Please do take him away to whatever hospital people of your kind use. We knew that the magic would get to his head sooner or later. Please do not reply via owl as we do not want to be seen mixing with your kind. We are expecting someone from your ministry to come to attend to the boy._

_The Dursleys"_

"Excellent work Petunia," Uncle Petunia began tying it to an extremely reluctant Hedwig, "That should get them worked up. I expect that the mental hospital people will be here anytime soon, and they'll clean up this mess." He waved his hand dismissively over Harry.

Harry gurgled in response.

**-H-**

Far, far, away, Hedwig was perched on Dumbledore's shoulder, reading the Dursleys' letter together with the wise old sage. Dumbledore sighed. Harry was in trouble again. Ever since Harry had lost Sirius…

Harry Potter was a wizard. And an extraordinary one at that. Alas, ever since he lost his godfather, he had not kept in touch with them. He refused to reply to his best friends', Hermione Granger's and Ron Weasley's, letters, and turned down any request to meet up with any of them. He had made it a point to snub all the members of the Order of the Phoenix, a Voldemort resistance force Dumbledore himself had organized. It was because of the Order of the Phoenix that Harry believed he had to rescue Sirius, and in so doing, he had caused Sirius's death, or so he believed.

And now, he was in trouble and needed help. Dumbledore proceeded to send out three letters, one addressed to Molly Weasley, the second to Remus Lupin, and the third to Hermione Granger and her parents. 'The healing must begin,' he thought to himself, 'and it begins now'.

**-H-**

Harry Potter awoke feeling as though he had been running, his limbs exhausted and breathing hard. The scar on his forehead was seering in pain, and voice was hoarse as he tried to make sense of where he was.

He was vaguely aware that there were people in the room. He could feel someone crying over his chest, and there was a tall redhead standing behind.

He sat up, one hand pushing himself up, the other reaching out for this glasses. The bushy haired Hermione jerked off Harry, and stared at him in amazement. "HARRY! Oh Harry, you've alive, you're alive, you're alive…!" she screamed, and pounced on him once again, knocking the wind out of him. "We thought you were dead!" she wailed. "And you're alive, you're alive, you're alive…"

Ron Weasley wasn't far behind. "I'll go get Mum," he said, his voice shaking, as he leapt with joy to find his mother.

Harry was dazed, but managed to put one hand around Hermione's shoulders. "Yes, I'm alive…" he muttered weakly. "Oh Harry…" she cried again, hugging him tighter.

"HARRY!" Molly Weasley and Ron burst through the door. "YOU'RE ALIVE…"

"So I've heard Mrs. Weasley…" he managed a lopsided grin as Hermione climbed off him awkwardly. He hadn't realized how comfortable it had been just now, but as he sat up once more, he could feel the warmth flow out of him, and it made him feel like hugging Hermione again. He shook himself.

"What happened?" He was clearly in the Burrow, but how had he gotten all the way him from Privet Drive?

"Well, the Dursleys found you in a bad state one day, so they wrote a nasty letter to Dumbledore asking him to take you away. Using owl post, would you believe it. The things they would resort to just to get you away…"

"Go on, go on…" urged Harry.

"Dumbledore got your letter," it was Ron's turn to tell the story, "and he sent a letter to Mum, asking her to go fetch you as he was busy on Order business and another to Lupin to escort her."

"I also got one," added Hermione. "It invited me to come over to see how you were doing. "Of course I took the chance. We've all been so worried, what with you not answering our owls and ignoring everyone." Harry believed her, he could see her eyes all red and puffy, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"But how did I get like this?" he asked.

"Well Harry, we were kinda hoping you could answer that question. Did you get another vision again? You-know-who up to something?"

Harry tried to recall. Nothing. "I don't know, I really can't remember anything…"

"Oh Harry, its ok. I'm sure it'll come to you in due time. Right now, the most important thing is to recover. The OWL results will be coming soon, I expect, and we'll have to go prepare for school too." Hermione paused to tick items off her mental checklist.

"Yes Harry, Hermione's right. You really should rest. I'll go tell the news to the others; the Order will want to hear about this. Go back to sleep, Harry." The three of them left the room, and Harry collapsed back onto the bed, thoroughly tired out despite sleeping for days.

**-H-**


	2. Foul OWLs

**Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin**  
An original fanfiction by badspeler

**- CHAPTER TWO -  
Foul OWLs**

**-H-**

"_When cats run home and light is come,  
And dew is cold upon the ground  
And the far-off stream is dumb,  
And the whirring sail goes round,  
And the whirring sail goes round;  
Alone and warming his five wits,  
The white owl in the belfry sits."_

_Song- The Owl, by Lord Alfred Tennyson_

**-H-**

The first thing Harry saw when he arose from his slumber were two large eyes staring at him. He yelped in fright and jumped out of bed, rudely knocking the creature onto the floor.

"Never…do…that…again…Dobby…"

"Sorry sir, its just that I missed Harry Potter so very very much. Hogwarts isn't the same without its students sir…and Dumbledore let Dobby take leave today to come see you sir. He even gave Dobby the materials to make this card for you Harry Potter!" Dobby reached his thin, long fingers within his scrubby patch-cloth clothes and withdrew a crummy, tacky, glitter-glue-tape-all over the place kind of card that delights parents when they receive it from their five year olds. Only this one was magical, and as soon as Harry touched it, it boomed:

"GET WELL SOON HARRY! GET WELL SOON HARRY! GET WELL SOON HARRY!" It took a _Quietus _to get the card to finally shut up. Dobby beamed with pride.

"I tried to make it sound like Harry Potter, sir." He looked at Harry expectantly, eyes tearing with joy.

Harry grinned. Dobby would always be Dobby. "Thank you Dobby, but next time, make it quieter ok? I don't shout all the time."

Dobby abashedly looked down. "Well I was hoping sir that the shouting would help you wake up. Winky also thought it was a good idea, she did."

"Winky? Oh yeah, how's Winky doing?"

"She's-" But how Winky was, Dobby never got to say, because the door took this chance to explode with a loud bang, and in stormed a large group, headed by none other than Fred and George.

"Crikey Harry! We heard the racket you were making. What's the big deal, mate? Oh, by the way, nice to see you living and breathing at last. The way Hermione over here was crying over you, we thought you'd have drowned by now." Fred gave Hermione a nudge, and she flushed a beetroot red.

"See Harry Potter? Even Masters Fred and George thinks it sounds like you!" cried Dobby happily.

Harry looked at the group: hair pink, nose long, Nymphadora Tonks, escorted by haggard, beaming Remus Lupin and bemused, pale-old-faced...Severus Snape, looking strangely tired like Lupin as well.

"Hello Harry!" said Tonks gaily, moving forward to give him a friendly pat on the head. Lupin stepped forward and gave Harry an unexpected hug. "You made us so worried Harry. Never snub us again, you hear?" Harry smiled in response.

"Hello…professor Snape…" He stuck his hand out awkwardly. He was not risking a hug with Snape.

"No thanks Potter." Snape's hands stayed folded across his chest. "Contrary to popular belief, I do not care about whether the Boy who lived continues to live or not, but rather, I am here to deliver your OWL results. Dumbledore thought it would be a…pleasant surprise… for the three of you, and a good excuse for me to come see you as well, as though I needed any. Well, so afraid to disappoint you so early in the morning, but here you go, your OWL results. Take it quickly, I must be leaving."

Harry stared in incredulity at the gold-lined envelopes embossed with the Hogwarts crest. He remembered Hermione mentioning something about them yesterday, but his Outstanding Wizarding Levels results so soon?

He took his with anticipation. Hermione anxiously snatched hers out of Snape's hand, while Ron fearfully slipped it out of Snape's grip, careful to use no more than three fingers, as though it were a dangerous thing threatening to explode any second. He cast furtive looks to make sure his Mom wasn't around, and Harry saw him sneak off to his room.

Snape cast one last look at Harry, and Harry raised his head to see (what, fatherly affection?) a weird look in his eyes before turning away. "Goodbye Harry, and I hope you are prepared for your results. I would like to advice you against taking Advanced Potions, as I am taking the class, though I doubt your results qualify and thus no need for us to worry excessively. Miss Granger, Professor Dumbledore did not look at your results but he was quite sure it was not presumptuous of him to congratulate you, so I pass his regards. And by the way, I'll let you know that Dumbledore has made me the new Defence against Dark Arts teacher. Good luck, farewell." He cast another knowing look at the pair of them, and then triumphantly sauntered out of the room.

Harry's mouth agape, he fingered his results in his hand. Snape, Defence against Dark Arts teacher? He seriously needed to consider whether he wanted to take it anymore. He just couldn't imagine having his favourite subject ruined by Snape…

"Harry! What you doing with your mouth open? Breakfast was long over. Shut your mouth and open that envelope!" Tonks gave him a playful prod.

"Yes…yes…of course…" said Harry bashfully, his hands fumbling to undo the letter.

"Ooh Harry Potter sir, Dobby shall go and prepare the 'Congratulations on your good results' lunch party."

"But Dobby, we haven't even seen the resu-" But with a snap of his fingers, Dobby had apparated, and Harry, sighing, turned his head back dreadfully to read his fate.

"_Dear Mr Potter, _

_You are receiving this letter because you took the Oustanding Wizarding Levels (O.W.Ls) **last year** during your school term at **Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**. If you have received this letter by mistake, please do not sign at the end of this letter, but rather, return it back to the owl from whom you received the letter._

_Your O.W.L results are as follows:_

_Charms O  
Transfiguration__O  
Herbology__O_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts O_

_Care of Magical Creatures O_

_Potions__E  
Astronomy__A_

_Divination__A_

_History of Magic__A_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have achieved an outstanding **nine O.W.Ls**. Congratulations, and good luck with your future education._

_Magnolia Poppers  
Ministry of Magic"_

Harry couldn't keep the beam out of his face as he looked up from his letter. He had done very well overall, Astronomy and History of Magic had been a waste, Potions was acceptable, and Divination, well, he had been expecting it. At least he hadn't failed any subject! He cast an apprehensive glance at Hermione. Her eyes were bright, her thin, pink lips parted slightly, and breath coming out in short bursts as her eyes seemed to re-read and re-read her letter over and over again. Even from where he was, Harry could feel the joy radiating from her. He couldn't resist, when all of a sudden, his magic seemed to flow to his brain, and quite suddenly, he found himself probing in places where he should not have gone. He clenched his fists, as he tried to stop himself. He really didn't want to betray his friend…but the raw emotion flowing out of her was oh, so tempting…

And then she broke his trains of thought when she screamed with joy.

**-H-**

"Really Hermione, you didn't have to make all that fuss about your O.W.L. results."

"Well Harry, I'll like to see what you'd have done when you learnt you scored an outstanding for everything, and got _eleven _O.W.Ls!"

Harry clicked his tongue in frustration. "Oh stop repeating yourself Hermione, we _ALL _know you got _eleven O.W.Ls_ thanks to you."

"Then stop complaining, Harry. You didn't do too bad yourself, nine O.W.Ls. I wonder how Ron did." The pair stopped outside Ron's room, nervously knocked on his door twice, and entered to find him crumpling his letter in anger.

"Oh Ron…" Hermione left Harry's side, and dashed over to Ron to put a comforting hand over his shoulder. "I'm sorry your results weren't very good."

Ron glared at her. "Who said anything about poor results?"

Hermione turned red. "Oh I'm sorry, I just assumed from the way you were crushing your letter that…"

Ron leapt up from his bed, his rage building. "Oh yeah? I guess its because you _always _assume I'm always weaker than you, stupider than you, clumsier than you, sillier than you, and that you're always better than me, huh? And you," he spun around to rage at Harry, "_you_, always thinking you're the hero, playing me down, acting big in front of me, don't think I can't tell anything!"

"What did I do?" Harry muttered angrily. Hermione could only gape at Ron.

"Yeah, that's right Potter. Absolutely nothing wrong. You're always _right_, you're always the _victim_. You're always hankering after people's sympathies aren't you Harry? Huh? Acting the poor, innocent, abused orphan all the time. Well I'll just tell you now its not working on me! I know who you really are. You're jealous aren't you, jealous of all I have? You want to take it all away from me! You come into my family, make my sister infatuated with you, make me feel bad about becoming a prefect ("When did I ever do that?" demanded Harry angrily, but Ron stormed on), buy my brothers over with your dirty money stolen from Cedric, along the way bringing heaps of glory onto yourself by winning the Triwizard Tournament, and then you win over my mother's heart. You should hear her, always going on and on about you, and how she's worried about you, and how I should be more like you, how good-mannered you are, how brave you are, how heroic you are, how hard working you are, how fit you are, well I'VE HEARD BLOODY ENOUGH!" Ron ended in spit, his eyes flashing red and his face burning with years of pent-up rage.

"Ron…I…" But Ron cut Harry off. "And last year, when you came back from the Triwizard Tournament, I thought I could at least try to be nice to you and all your hypocrisy. But _no_, you lunged at us the first chance you got, and started shouting and ranting and ignoring us and everything and…and…and…what am I to you? A punching bag? A lousy sidekick? Well not anymore, Potter! NOT ANY BLOODY MORE!"

Hermione was in tears. "Stop it Ron…," she paused for a sob, "you're sounding like Malfoy..."

Ron looked at her, and his eyes softened. He let the remnants of his O.W.L results letter float to the ground, and marched out of the room, purposely knocking past Harry as he exited. Harry was stunned. He never knew Ron hated him, he had always assumed he was happy-go-lucky, and had never once considered...so much for the "emotional range of a teaspoon" theory.

He felt as though he needed to say something to redeem himself. "Hermione, I never knew."

Hermione's sobbing had ceased, and she was blowing her nose now and tidying herself up. "Oh Harry, none of us knew. It was silly of him to bottle up like that, I wished he had discussed it with us."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Then I would have corrected all thoes preposterous ideas and given him a piece of my mind. As if I wanted to be an orphan, as if I wanted to join the Triwizard, as if I-"

Hermione looked unapprovingly at him, reminding Harry, surprisingly, of Mrs Weasley. "Well Harry, I'm not saying I agree with everything he's said…but you were quite the jerk last year, and ever since Sirius died you've been ignoring and snubbing us. We're trying to be nice, you know, Harry. I guess the O.W.L results just brought out all his frustrations. Don't get mad Harry, he knows he doesn't mean half the things he's said, and I'm sure you two will patch up in no time. Right?"

Harry could feel a nasty retort at the tip of his tongue. What right had Ron got to say all those nasty things about him and Hermione? Well, mostly him. But he didn't want another argument, not when he had just forgotten about Sirius dying…

And suddenly, he found himself in the Department of Mysteries once again, and he watched in horror as he saw…

_Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her. 'Come on, you can do better than that!' he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room._

_The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. Harry was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand._

_It seemed to take ages for Sirius to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging over the arch._

_And the last Harry saw of Sirius Black was a look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway, and disappeared beyond the veil. And he vaguely heard Lupin's voice telling him the last thing he wanted to hear: "There's nothing you can do, Harry…There's nothing you can do, Harry…nothing…he's gone."_

"Harry? Harry? You and Ron will patch up, right?" Hermione was shaking him by the shoulders gently.

It was all his fault Sirius had died, it was all his fault. If he, Harry, had not been stupid enough to fall for Voldemort's trick, to not let his youthful ambitions get over the inhibitions the Order had been trying to create for him, not to want to "play the hero", to believe that he could actually make a difference in the fight against Voldemort, that only he could save Sirius…if only he had opened his mind to the possibility that Voldemort might have been banking on Harry's love of playing the hero…

It was unbearable, but Harry knew it was true. It was all his fault. He had been silly to think that coming back to the Burrow would help him forget, to allow him to forgive himself. It was a terrible hollow, a dreadful curse, a painful burden, worse than the knowledge that he had been there when Cedric died, worse than the mission to kill Voldemort of die, worse than knowing what his best friend really thought about him, worse than it all was the knowledge, the pain of that knowledge, that it had been he who caused Sirius to die, and nearly everyone else he brought along too. He had caused Sirius to die, he nearly caused Hermione to die, he nearly caused all of them to die. And now, Ron was angry with him, Hermione agreed, and everyone thought he was trying to play the hero. 'Which he was, which only made matters worse,' Harry thought to himself, resignedly.

"Harry!" Hermione was shaking him violently now.

"Huh? What?" Harry said blankly.

"Harry, what's wrong? We were talking about Ron a few minutes ago then suddenly you blanked out. What's wrong?"

"Everything Hermione, everything." And with that, he shuffled out of his ex-best friend's room, down the now sinister gay atmosphere around the Burrow which was suffocating him, and out into the garden. What a horrible, weary day!

The dazzling sunshine and beautiful weather only served to disgust Harry, and he trudged into a dark corner of the garden where he could sit alone and meditate. The soft breeze wrapped around his calves, the grass danced in the wind, the clouds were parting once again, and down flew a handsome, tawny owl with a letter for Harry.

**-H-**

**  
**

_

* * *

Harry Potter and all related characters and events belong to J.K.Rowling alone. And if you were silly enough to believe I created them then I can only thank you for the enormous amount of talent you must have decided to put on me. Thank you Lord Alfred Tennyson for that lovely poem on Owls. It is incomplete._


	3. Letters and Longing

**Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin  
**An original fanfiction by badspeler

**- CHAPTER THREE -  
Letters and Longings**

**-H-**

"_DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee __  
__Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so, __  
__For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow, __  
__Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me. __  
__From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, __  
__Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, __  
__And soonest our best men with thee do go, __  
__Rest of their bones, and soules delivery. __  
__Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men, __  
__And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, __  
__And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well, __  
__And better then thy stroke; why swell'st thou then; __  
__One short sleep past, we wake eternally, __  
__And death shall be no more; Death thou shalt die_._"_

_Death be not Proud, by John Donne_

**-H-**

The owl swooped over the hedges in the Weasley garden, and grandly alighted a few metres away. The tawny fowl promptly hopped over, and dropped the letter into Harry's lap. It seemed to nod at Harry before, wings spread, it took to the skies.

Harry quickly tore open the letter, and stared at it incredulously as he scanned through it.

"_Dear Harry,_

_I took me a while to decide whether or not I should write this, and I've finally mustered the courage to do so. We did not end off on a good note last year, and I am as sorry for it as I hope you are. After everything that has happened in Hogwarts, I realized that our relationship was just a burden to the both of us, and I hope that you are as relieved as I am that it is over. It was just too tiring to keep accommodating and compromising for one another, and I guess we just realized that only after one whole year. I hope you can understand and forgive me.  
_

_Harry, can we still be friends? Its been on my mind ever since we parted at Hogwarts, and while things can never be the same as they were before, I'm sure we can still get along. After all, I'm still in the DA, aren't I? Or are you planning to close that down as well? I won't blame you if you do; we all understand._

_You've probably heard that I'm going out with Michael now. Please don't feel bad. I'm sorry it didn't work out between us, I really am._

_Hoping you are well,  
Cho Chang_"

Truth be told, he hadn't really though about her at all since he saw her board the Hogwarts Express. As far as he was concerned, the relationship was long over. The feelings and excitement he had once experienced had died, and his infatuation had ceased. Throughout the holidays, he had been much more concerned about Sirius, actually. Sirius…

And that familiar pang of guilt, disgust and gloom took over him again, that he found himself tearing. "You're so hopeless Harry!" he spat out in frustration. He buried his head in his arms, crying just as much as he had when Sirius had first fallen through the veil. The clouds had gone back to covering the sun and the bright morning had been replaced by a dull, gloomy afternoon threatening to rain.

When Harry had finally calmed down, he wiped his face one last time, put the letter into his jeans pocket, and lay down on the ground, admiring the sky.

Oh, how he wished he could be carefree, just like nature. Wild, free, beautiful, alluring…

_But you can, _a small voice in the back of his voice said, _you can be free_. _You've learnt how to free yourself, haven't you?_

No, Harry thought to himself, he couldn't risk it. And anyway, it was wrong. So what if he had decided to let his mind wander one day, and it had gotten out of hand? It was wrong. It was abusing his powers. He knew he should have written and told Dumbledore from the start when he discovered it.

_But no, _the evil voice sneered, _you didn't tell him. And I can tell you why…_

Why?

_Because you're naughty. You're nasty. You want to keep it all to yourself. You want to exploit it. You want to be tempted by it. You're evil, dirty, and downright disgusting. You like the feeling don't you? You want to feel that same way again, don't you? That's why you didn't tell Dumbledore._

No, no, no! Harry's brain cried in protest. I didn't tell Dumbledore because I was afraid that he would think I was crazy and send me to St Mungo's just like the Dursleys wanted. I hate this power. I don't want to know Legilimency or Occlumency! I don't care about mind reading. I just want to be a normal, ordinary teenager!

_No_. The little voice was angry now, threatening and foreboding. _You don't. You want to be a hero. You want to be worshipped. You like attention. You like knowing that you're the best. That's who you are. Proud, arrogant, and full of yourself. I hope you're happy._

His hands gripped the sides of his head. He was brutally shaking himself now, sitting up once more, legs thrasing violently. NO! NO! NO! Shut up! Shut up!

_I will not shut up. I will not keep quiet. I will always be here to remind you, to teach you, to torture you. You know you want to feel free. Sealing the mind against magic and intrusion…ha! You know that your power surpasses it all. You want to be happy, don't you? Then rest, after all, isn't all this so tiresome, so wearisome? Rest, close your eyes, and let yourself drift…_

No…no…But Harry's voice was getting softer, and the little voice was engulfing him with its taunts, jeers, and temptations.

And his eyes closed, and his tired body gave in. His will after all, wasn't really a will at all. _He wanted this. He wanted this so, so badly. _Harry felt himself free, and moved quickly, desperate for the release it would bring him. Into the Burrow, he found his target, and he delved within her. Within seconds his mind was oblivious to everything, just one emotion searing through him and bringing him to a new high.

**-H-  
**

"_The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter – or at least, most minds are."_

_Snape eyed Harry, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as he did so._

"_The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter. Sometimes, when you are most vulnerable and your mind is most relaxed, you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions_…"

But what if, just if, if one could steer that mind away. Perhaps direct it to another source, let it drift, let it float, let it be steered, let it travel and move around. Then Harry would no longer be sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions, oh no, it would be a whole different experience together. Perhaps the connection would never be as strong, but Harry would at least feel the raw emotions seeping through. But it's all just one big if.

But what if, just if, Harry was crying over Sirius one day, the same old sentiments brought up again. What if Harry decided to collapse on his bed, letting his fatigued mind rest?

But what if, just if, it had not rested? What if it had continued badgering him, torturing him, reminding him? What was he to do then? What if he had chosen to shut his mind down to his own feelings, and succeeded?

But what if, just if, in the process of doing so, he opened his mind to other influences, and before he knew it, he had floated out of his body, almost like what he did when he wanted to resist pain. His mind, his senses, his soul, would have been all contained in that whispering entity, and it embodying all that he was.

And what if he had decided to let it drift further than just above his body? What if he had decided to see what it would be like to explore? Then Harry would surely have seen someone. What if that someone had been a young boy walking down Privet Drive, licking his ice-cream?

Then, Harry would have approached him, unbeknownst to the child. And he would have probed, and delved, and plunged into the boy's mind. But he couldn't, not all the way, anyway. But he could feel. Not all its complex, complicated layers, but surely, at the first few, that was enough. And Harry Potter would have had a look at the child's simple mind.

And what would he have found then? He would have experienced pure pleasure like no other. Surprise from his new-found powers, and pure sensual delight from the boy's tongue licking the ice-cream. Nothing could please the boy more, and nothing could numb Harry from the pain better. If he could find no joy within himself, it had to come from someone else.

And when the boy finished his ice-cream, he didn't even realize that someone had been sharing his senses all this time along. Harry would have drifted out of him, and gone on to his next victim. And the next, and the next, till he could not stop smiling. He would have gotten guilty after a while, and stopped.

But what if, whenever he felt down, he could not resist, and would do it again. What if, once, his mind had drifted so far, that he found himself in a place he did not know? A place he had never seen before. A gray, dull, monotonous place, with thick gray fog and dirty streets, dilapidated houses and creepy alleyways, choked air and suspicious characters. What if he had entered the mind of the wrong person? And in that first layer alone, he would have been disgusted by the evil pleasure this person was having. And he would have tried to break the connection. But he couldn't. Something went wrong. He couldn't go back. He couldn't go back!

The answer? Harry Potter would have roared in a way that wasn't him at all, because it really wasn't him, but rather, the evil he was in, and he would have fainted from the effort, gurgling and giggling uncontrollably, the pleasures he had felt bursting out through his throat.

One short sleep past, and Harry didn't want to have to wake ever again

**-H-**

_

* * *

_

_Harry Potter and all related characters and events belong to J.K.Rowling alone. And if you were silly enough to believe I created them then I can only thank you for regarding me so highly. The poem, by John Donne, is quoted in its entirety, and was extracted from _A Choice of Poets, New Ed _edited by Dr David Edwards._


	4. The Congratulations Lunch

**Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin  
**An original fanfiction by badspeler

**- CHAPTER THREE -  
The Congratulations Lunch**

**-H-**

"_I was angry with my friend:  
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.  
I was angry with my foe:  
I told it not, my wrath did grow._

_And I watered it in fears,  
Night and morning with my tears;  
And I sunned it with smiles,  
And with soft deceitful wiles._

_And it grew both day and night,  
Till it bore an apple bright,  
And my foe beheld it shine,  
And he knew that it was mine,_

_And into my garden stole,  
When the night had veiled the pole.  
In the morning, glad I see  
My foe outstretched beneath the tree."_

_The Poison Tree, by William Blake_

**-H-**

"Dobby please chop the carrots faster!"

"Pass the salt! Pass the salt!"

"Whats for lunch, Mum?"

"Mmm…smells good…"

"No worries about chopping your fingers off, eh Dobby? Used to the punishment by now? OWW! Crikey mum, no need to hit so hard…"

"Where do I sit?"

"Pass the salt! Pass the salt!"

"Over here!"

"Over there!"

"Oh silly me!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley as she stopped searching for the salt, picked up her wand, and muttered 'Accio salt!'. Unfortunately, the wand she picked up was a new product from Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, and it was configured to mess up your spells. On purpose.

The carrots flew out of Dobby's hand and aimed straight at Mrs Weasley. Everyone winced as the vegetables torpedoed towards her. "Yeow!" she yelped, as they hit her unawares. She stared at her wand dumbly. The wand disappeared in a loud pop, and a scroll appeared in her hands instead, the words "Ha ha! Gotcha!" appearing in garish, flashy colours over the parchment.

"Freeeeeeeeed! Geeeeeeeeorge! Come down here this instance!" screamed Mrs Weasley.

The twins looked at each other. "Oh dear! Got to run!"

"Use the other bottle, that one's disappearing ink!" they cried out, as they ran past Ginny who was in charge of painting the banner. Turning a sharp corner around the living room, narrowly avoiding a spell their mother cast, they collided into Harry as they tried to leave through the door.

"Oww…that's the second time I've been hit in the head today."

Harry looked dazed. "Huh?"

"Hey, mate, are you ok?"

"Yeah, you look kinda sick…"

"No no, its all right. I'll just…go back to my room to take a breather."

"Well, don't stay too long. Lunch won't be too long."

"Not if I can help it," added Fred mischievously.

Harry trudged past the twins who looked incredibly pleased about something, and plodded up the stairs into the room he had been assigned. All of a sudden, he realized that it was Percy's room, or at least, where Percy would have been living. He was very curious as to what had happened with Percy, and what was happening at the Ministry, but he decided that he would save those questions for lunch, when the Order came over to party.

At that point, Harry decided that he didn't want the first time he saw Ron, after their argument, to be at the 'Congratulations-on-your-good-results' party. If there was anything between them, he would learn to be like Cho had, mustering up the courage to bring it out into the open and talk about it. Yes, he would confront Ron. After all, he had given Ron enough time to cool down, and enough time for him to go exploring…no…he musn't think about that now…not now…

Harry swung the door open, and determinedly walked up to Ron's door, which he noticed was ajar. He didn't stop to think but instead, went straight up to open it, and saw-

Hermione and Ron were standing by the bed. But that wasn't all they were doing. Hermione's hands were tugging at Ron's curls, pulling his face down to hers, and his hands were around her neck. If only Harry's eyes had remained at the hands. But no, he looked further, and found their lips pressing against the other's, tongues gingerly touching one another's, eyes closed in the sensuality of the moment. Hermione was even moaning slightly.

They didn't even know he was there.

Harry felt angry, all of a sudden- very angry. He kicked the door open, and rushed out of Ron's room. Tears again. He was crying again. He clenched his fists. Why he was angry, he didn't even know. Why he felt so lost, so betrayed, so abandoned, he didn't know either. All he knew was that he didn't care about the two of them anymore, he didn't care about the celebratory party anymore. He didn't care about anything or anyone anymore. He just wanted out. To find the peace he was searching for, to reignite that ecstasy that overtook him whenever he entered someone's mind. All he wanted was to forget everything.

"Harry, Mum wants me to tell you that the food's ready so if you-" But Harry didn't stop to listen to Ginny. He didn't even see the beautiful banner she had painted for them. He just dashed past her, not seeing a thing. His voice was coming out in sobs, and his tears were stinging.

But as he pushed past her, his probing mind accidentally burst through his mental inhibitions, and he found himself inside Ginny.

_"I wonder what's wrong with Harry. He looks so sad. Oh if only he knew how much I love him. Those beautiful green eyes, that loving heart…And he looks so vulnerable now. If only I could just hug him from where I am right now, and kiss him with all the passion I have, if only"…_ Harry found himself looking at Ginny's imagination, viewing her visualizations, reading her fantasies.

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry bent down and pulled Ginny to him, making her gasp in surprise. He didn't even look where he was aiming at when he kissed her. He just found her lips, and pushed against them so hard, so passionately. He forgot everything in that one act.

He was still inside Ginny's brain, and it was screaming with pride, pleasure, lust, desire, and causing Harry's to scream the same. All he wanted…all he wanted…

Lips parted, tongue's exploring every crevice of the other's mouth, he deliciously breathed in her breath, and her, his. Oh, all that emotion she was feeling, coursing through him, burning him, exciting him, making him feel like he would explode from all that pleasure and ecstasy.

His hands had worked their way around her waist and he was pulling her against him, so hard, till it almost hurt. All he wanted…all he wanted…

But just as abruptly as the kiss started, so it ended. Ginny jerked away from him, gave him a terrified look, and dashed up the stairs, and Harry could see that she was crying. He had gone out of her mind, but the feelings it erupted still lingered. He stared after her hungrily.

He suddenly realized what he had just done and reeled in shock. He collapsed onto the floor of the empty Burrow, retching in disgust. Oh god, what have I just done?

**-H-**

The lunch party had been an utter success, according to Mrs Weasley, except for one thing.

Ginny's beautiful banner had hung proudly over the tables, making the party seem so much happier. They had had excellent Butterbeer, procured by the resourceful Remus Lupin. Tonks had Apparated home (wherever she lived) to bring magical poppers, exploding fireworks, and the like, for the party, delighting Fred and George who quickly dissected the toys for ideas. The food (mixed with Fred and George's secret trick treats) had been scrumptious (and dangerous at the same time, thanks to the twins).

The weather had never been more perfect. Though it had threatened to rain in the early afternoon, the sun had been quick to recover, and seemed determined to make up for lost shine. It had been a dazzling day.

The atmosphere had to be at fault then. But what was different, she didn't know. Ron seemed dazed when he had come down for lunch, and had left as soon as he came to get his share, declining to declare his marks. No worries, he would tell her soon enough. Hermione had been pink in the face throughout lunch, breathless, befuddled and extremely embarrassed about something. Mrs Weasley had not been overly concerned- after all, she was probably delighted with her results, and suffering from shock.

Yes, it had definitely been the atmosphere, she could see it now. It had been Harry and Ginny she was worried about. Ginny had locked herself in her room, and she seemed to have been crying. Mrs Weasley had no idea what to do with the girl, six boys she could handle, but one girl could drive her crazy. She didn't know what was going on with Ginny lately, and she couldn't help but be worried. She had always assumed the three of them, Harry, Ron and Hermione, would take care of Ginny, but the girl seemed to have distanced herself away from them, and it made a mother fret so. She would have to talk to Ginny soon. Harry too. He had been pale in the face, and looked extremely weak. Lupin had been afraid of a relapse of his condition, which Harry neither denied or affirmed, so he had been sent back to bed to recover. Hermione had requested to go up with him, but he had firmly put his foot down, so she let him go alone. After a while, she too went up, claiming to feel tired also. A congratulations-on-your-good-marks lunch just didn't feel the same if you did not have the people who scored the O.W.Ls in the first place, especially since her son wasn't even in it.

But Mrs Weasley had other things to fret about. Scolding Arthur, for instance, when the family clock (which magically changed to indicate the current actions of the family member) had displayed Arthur Weasley at lunch, though he had not been at the party. She had been more concerned about reprimanding him for forgetting. Bill and Charlie had sent letters, asking about the results, but as Ron hadn't told her, she couldn't tell them either.

Overall, the party had been an utter success, if you didn't include the most important people, of course. Mrs Weasley was satisfied.

**-H-**

Harry Potter lay on Percy's bed staring blankly at the ceiling. He missed Hogwarts. Hogwarts had been a promise of fun, of comfort, of security, of friendship, of love, or adventure, of excitement, of reliability. He missed its moving staircases, talking portraits, magical ceiling, tall towers, but most importantly, its people. The Burrow seemed to have lost all its allure over the years, reminding him, sadly, of Grimmauld Place. That place, full of horrible memories and twisted past. If Sirius had left the house to him, he would have it burned down. No one should have to live in that place.

The Burrow, which Harry had expected to be better, was quickly turning into Grimmauld place. Cold hard walls, and empty rooms. Vacant spaces, and silent people. The party? What was it to him? Mere acting, and he didn't want to act anymore. Nothing had gone right, nothing at all, ever since he left Privet Drive. From the moment he had discovered magic, it had been what it was, magical and brilliant. But from the first year, the ugly truth behind his parent's death was thrust upon him, and he had to face an unspeakable evil, that being which would ruin his entire life- Voldemort.

Within Harry's heart flared hate and anger, disgust and rage like he had never known before. Damn Voldemort, damn him and his bloody death eaters. They had killed his parents and ruined his life. Because of them, he couldn't live life like an ordinary teenager. Because of them, no one could anymore. People lived in fear, people died at their hands and because of them, people turned against one another out of spite. It was all Dumbledore's fault, he fumed, all Dumbledore's fault. If he would just get out and openly defeat Voldemort, if he would just forget the ministry and damn everything else, he could defeat Voldemort.

_But then_, the little voice reminded, _you're the one who has to defeat Voldemort_.

Harry bit his lip in frustration. Yes, it would have to be him. He would have to defeat Voldemort. The prophecy floated from the depths of his mind, and he replayed it in his head.

"_I still don't understand."_

"_Voldemort, tried to kill you when you were a child," Dumbledore slowly spoke each word, his eyes staring at Harry as he spoke, "because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing to be fulfilling the terms of the prophecy. He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly, since your extraordinary escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety, which he has been seeking so assiduously since his return: the knowledge of how to destroy you."_

_Dumbledore got to his feet and walked past Harry to his Pensieve. Placing his wand upon his temple, he withdrew silvery, gossamer-fine strands off thought clinging to the wand and deposited them in. With a sigh, he prodded the silvery substance with its tip._

_A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and when Sybil Trelawney spoke, for that was who she was, she did not use her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but rather in harsh hoarse tones Harry had only heard her use once before:_

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

_The slowly revolving Professor Trelawney sank back into the silver mass below and vanished._

Harry tugged the pillow to his body closer. He was so tired, sick and tired of this all. Why did the person to kill Voldemort have to be him? Why did Sirius have to die for the sake of this prophecy? Why did Harry have to be connected with the Dark Lord? Why did Ron have to be jealous of Harry? And why did Hermione have to kiss Ron, and Harry kiss Ginny?

Head spinning, he shut his eyes to the screwed-up universe around him, and fell into that deep bliss we call slumber. When he awoke, dinner was ready, and he got up, tidied himself, and went down, knowing that an impending confrontation was coming soon.

**-H-**

**

* * *

**

_Harry Potter and all related characters and events belong to J.K.Rowling alone. And if you were silly enough to believe I created them then I can only thank you for regarding me so highly. The poem, by W.B. Yeats, is quoted as an extract, and was retrieved from _A Choice of Poets, New Ed _edited by Dr David Edwards._


	5. Put our Heads Together

**Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin  
**An original fanfiction by badspeler

**- CHAPTER FIVE -  
Put our Heads Together**

**-H-**

"_Tree at my window, window tree,  
My sash is lowered when night comes on;  
But let there never be curtain drawn  
Between you and me…_

…

_That day she put our heads together  
Fate had her imagination about her  
Your head so much concerned with outer,  
Mine with inner, weather._"

Tree at my Window, by Robert Frost

**-H-**

CRASH.

Harry looked from down the stairs into the living room. Tonks was sprawled on the floor, limbs sticking out at odd angles and looking very embarrassed too.

"Sorry about that…" Tonks stuttered out, gathering herself together. "Damn flesh-coloured strings lying all over the place…I see them all over the place and can't help but trip over them…"

Fred and George sniggered, and went over to clear up the pile of Extendable Ears. As they grabbed one after another out of hiding places, they went up the stairs, brushing past Harry. As they went by, Harry heard one of them hiss: "Meet us in your room after dinner immediately. We need to talk."

Harry cast a quizzical eyebrow, but the two of them ignored him and continued up. He was about to stop them when Tonks noticed Harry, and beckoned for him to come down and join the small group in their meal.

"Oh, awake at last Harry dear," Mrs Weasley had noticed too, "Come sit, come sit. Hermione and Ginny have finished already and are upstairs in Ginny's room doing who-knows-what. Ron's outside practicing Quidditch. I'm so happy that he's finally been accepted into the Quidditch team, don't you agree? Erm…erm…"

She subconsciously pulled the seat out for Harry, and she seemed nervous about something.

"What is it Mrs. Weasley?" Harry was expecting the worst- had she found out that he had kissed Ginny? Or worse, discovered his powers for Legilimency?

"Well, it's just that Ron has refused to tell us his O.W.L score, and I really don't want to argue with him over this. Do you know, by any chance?"

Harry let out a sigh of relief, which Mrs. Weasley misinterpreted.

"Oh, so it's good then? Well, no problems then, no problems then. He'll tell us in due course. Thanks Harry, you really are a good friend…" And with that, she bustled off, busying herself with other matters.

Harry groaned inwardly. He'd messed up, again. What would happen when Ron realized that Harry had told his mother his score had been good? Well, if he was lucky, Ron would never find out, but…

He turned to look at the others sitted around eating. Mundungus and Tonks were sitting in a corner chatting, though Tonks seemed very displeased with the arrangement. Lupin sat in the other corner, brooding, his fork twirling the lettuce around his fork, but not eating it.

"What's the matter, Lupin?"

The werewolf jerked his head up in surprise, as though he just discovered that Harry was there. "Oh…nothing…nothing at all…"

"No really, what's wrong?"

Lupin cast his eyes down to stare at his plate. "It just seemed to occur to me that we're at the Burrow this year, and not…you know…at Grimmauld Place. No one's been back there ever since…you know….he passed through the veil."

Passed through the veil. Harry liked the sound of that. It made it seem almost magical, almost surreal, almost ethereal, almost unreal. But it was real. Sirius had died.

Harry looked up to see Lupin's eyes, deeply saddened and concealing intense grief beneath. It was almost a reflection of his own feelings. Tonks and Mundungus had stopped talking now, and both hung their heads low, feeling the pain of the moment. Harry got up, walked over to Lupin, swung his arms around his neck, and broke down together. All the regret, all the horrible emotions, all the guilt, all the longing, all the rejection, all the pain, all the burden, everything- it all came out then. Two friends, crying for the third, missing from their midst. Tonks and Mundungus could only watch helplessly from the sides. Each tear drop represented a thousand feelings, each sob spoke a thousand words. Then the moment was over, dinner had to be eaten, and the group ate with a new melancholy not previously there.

Harry ate lightly, surprised that he wasn't ashamed of his outburst earlier on. They were all still grieving, after all, he reasoned, and there was nothing to be ashamed about. With a new calm in his heart, Harry finished his meal, and went up the stairs to meet Fred and George.

Bounding up the stairs, he entered his room to come face to face with two grim-faced twins and a mane of red hair- Ginny.

"Good to see you Harry." Fred didn't look pleased at all, if anything, he looked as displeased as he ever could get. Uh-oh, Harry's sensors were beeping. He dare not look at any of the three, and nervously kept his gaze on the floor.

"Now mate, you must be wondering why we've called you here."

Harry nodded briefly.

Fred put his arm around Harry roughly. "You did something you shouldn't have done, haven't you Harry?"

Harry could feel his face heating up. "I'm…I'm sorry…"

The twins burst into laughter. "Sorry for what? Great job mate!"

Huh? Harry jerked up in surprise. "What...?"

"You caught Ron and Hermione snogging! What a joke! Those two should have gotten together years ago, arguing and arguing all day like a couple…"

"Now with your information, we can laugh at them a bit. So we've called an official meeting to discuss what we're going to do with them." George's eyes had a dangerous glint to them.

"But…" Harry was still overtaken by the shock, "but…how did you know I saw them?"

Fred gestured towards Ginny, who seemed just as determined as Harry not to look at each other. "Ginny told us so. She accidentally let slip that she saw you peeping in on the two love-birds." Fred and George chuckled.

"Alright, here's the plan. We're going to monitor their relationship, and catch them in the act. Oh…it's going to be so funny. The Extendable Ears aren't working, they probably don't say much when they're together, or Hermione's used some silencing charm of sorts."

"Hermione moans quite loudly when Ron kisses her…" Harry blurted out. Almost immediately he realized what he had just said, and covered his mouth in horror. Ginny looked scandalized. Fred and George just roared with laughter.

"Attaboy Harry! Great job…oh, we're so going to see brainy, perfect Miss Granger in a compromising situation…Alright, back to our plan. Ginny, try and coerce Hermione into telling you more, okay? I can almost imagine the look on her face when we repeat her love life back to her word for word…"

"No you can't."

"Can't, what?"

"You can't imagine the look on her face when you repeat all her dirty secrets back to her."

"Yeah, you're right. I can't." Fred and George smiled evilly.

"Harry, you take care of Ron. After enduring these two for all these years, we've got to have our revenge. Are we all in on this?"

Fred and George stuck out their hands. Harry reluctantly joined the group, and shortly after that, an extremely embarrassed Ginny put her hand over Harry's. They had signed a pact. Boy, Harry could almost imagine the look on Ron and Hermione's faces when he had his revenge.

Just kidding, he couldn't really.

**-H-**

There were only 3 more days till Hogwarts, and the Burrow was in a mess. Dumbledore had left no clear instructions, so the Advance Guard had taken upon itself the duty of sending all of them to school. Or at least, Tonks, Remus, and Mad-Eye did.

Mrs Weasley had went herself to buy the books, and the children had to contend with staying home and whiling the time away, much to the dismay of Harry, who had been hoping to dodge Ron, Hermione and Ginny at Diagon Alley. Instead, he spent all the remaining time with them, and it was very awkward and embarrassing. There was no conversation or any eye contact at all, and Fred and George got so fed up trying that they stormed off to their shop at Hogsmeade.

Three more days…  
Harry waited in his room till he was sure Ginny had passed. Hearing footsteps pass him by, he quickly made his exit and dashed to the toilet. He had successfully avoided contact once again…

Two more days…  
Ron and Hermione sneaked off last night. Ginny noticed, and she spent the night cuddling her pillow trying not to imagine what her brother and Hermione were up to, though it was hard when she was fantasizing the exact same things with Harry Potter herself, no matter what she told herself.

One more day…  
Ron and Hermione didn't wake till lunch. Harry knew what had happened, but had managed to control himself. He would not delve into their minds, not theirs, not anyone's. It was wrong. He would try to apologize to Ginny. Soon. As soon as. In the meantime, he would stay out of her way. She could be dangerous if she wanted to. Ginny spent the whole day trying to get Harry's attention, but she was snubbed. She wasted the rest of the day in conflict with herself: had Harry really kissed her? Why had he? After all these years that she was infatuated with him, she had finally got over him last year. He just had to remind her when he kissed her that day, why she loved him. Damn him, she thought, damn him.

And then it was the day to depart for Hogwarts. Harry felt relieved as he carried his trunk downstairs. No more Burrow, no more awkward situations. Hogwarts was enormous, so they would never meet, he told himself. The security of Hogwarts put him at ease, and he resolved to meet Dumbledore soon to find out what was happening with the Order (he had given up trying to ask any one of them), and to tell him about his power.

Hermione and Ron were given a magical carpet (they had been approved by the Ministry last year) to ride, but Harry had declined, preferring to ride alone on his broomstick. He missed the liberating feel of the wind against him, the pulsating tremors of riding a broom. Anyway, he would leave the two lovebirds alone on the carpet. Who knew what they would get up to when left alone…As they lifted off, he caught Ron fingering Hermione once or twice, much to the embarrassment of the girl and the amusement of everyone else (especially Ron). Harry grimaced. He would get through this year even without his friends.

**-H-**

The two of them snuck off to the prefect's meeting in the train, so he found himself alone with Ginny. He had purposely fallen asleep, so he got a rude awakening when he was knocked off the seat, colliding into baggage as he tumbled to the floor. Suddenly, screaming erupted all around him, stampedes of students as they rushed around carraiges, screeching, crying and laughing everywhere. Harry drowsily got up.

"Whassimatter..." he mumbled, rubbing his eyes heavily.

He was roughly pushed along the throng of students, a chaotic mass of mindless rats scrambling down a tunnel of doom. Harry cleared his mind at last, and cast his eyes out of the Hogwarts Express. There were cloaked figures riding alongside the Hogwarts Express, broomsticks working as fast as the train. They all had bared their shoulders to reveal a dark green symbol Harry had grown to loath and fear.

They were Death Eaters.

And as the students bustled around in terror trying to work out what was happening, the Death Eaters swirled around the train in formation, circling it, teasing it, frightening it. They were laughing hysterically, and their hoods were down to reveal who they were.

Harry caught sight of Bellatrix. Her eyes were red with glee as she cackled at the students. But Harry could tell that Voldemort had punished her; her eyes were sunken in, as though she had been "crucio"ed.

Bellatrix came right up to the carriage, smashing the windows and peering right through. She seemed to stare straight at Harry as she delivered her message, her voice mechanical and toneless:

"The Dark Lord has risen, and will rise once again. Where the heir of Slytherin failed, the prince shall not. The Dark Lord sends his regards, Harry Potter. Remember, Harry Potter, there will be no Dumbledore when you shall meet again."

And then they were gone.

**-H-**

_Harry Potter and all related characters and events belong to J.K.Rowling alone. And if you were silly enough to believe I created them then I can only thank you for regarding me so highly. The poem, by Robert Frost, is quoted as an extract, and was retrieved from _A Choice of Poets, New Ed _edited by Dr David Edwards._


End file.
